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LADY ESTABROOK 



^ 



BY 

JEANNETTE WHEELER 

ILLUSTRATED 



THE 

Hbbcy press 

PUBLISHERS 
114 
FIFTH AVENUE 

Xon^on NEW YORK /Mbontrcal 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two C'jpits Reccived 

SEP. 30 1901 

COPVHIOHT ENTRY 

ABS Oy. XXC N« 
B. 



CLA 



COPY 



T535AS 



Copyright, igoi, 

by 

THE 



Bbbe^ lpres6 




JEANNETTE WHEELER 



BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 

Jea7inette Classon was born in the little 
town of Reedsville^ Wis.^ not far from 
Manitowoc. Her childhood days were spent 
in Peoria^ IlL^ her school days in Geneseo^ 
III. It was while here she commenced 
writing stories. 

While still yonng she was telegraph 
operator on the commercial line^ in the 
little town of Buda^ II L Later a school- 
teacher. Then she married J. F. Wheeler^ 
moved west on to a farm ^ from which they 
have lately retired^ and with more leisure 
has come back the old love for writing 
stories. 

The Publishers. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGB 

Part I. The Storm Child 7 

Part II. I am Only a Waif 12 

Part III. You are Lady Estabrook 22 

Part IV. The Lover's Welcome 28 

Part V. Father and Child. .. 36 



LADY ESTABROOK. 



PART I. 

THE STORM CHILD. 

It was a bitter night in March, 

The winter had been long and cold, 

Bnt this most eventfnl night 
Was unusually severe and bold. 

We were a happy household group, 
And had gathered close round the fire 

Watching the blazing logs, 

As the flames leaped ever higher. 

How the blaze lit up the rafter 
In that kitchen rude and warm ! 

Rude? yes, but not for a palace 

Would I have changed the dear old farm. 

7 



8 Lad}^ Estabrook. 

There were mother and father 
And the dear old grandmother, 

And there, on a stool at my side, 
Was Roger, my only brother. 

I was twelve years old that winter, 

Roger was only eight. 
We amused ourselves by reading 

And drawing pictures on the slate. 

Roger had been reading to me 

A tale of Fairyland. 
" And is it true ? " he cried, 

As he eagerly grasped my hand. 

The bright and happy look 

For a moment left his face 
As I answered him, '^ No, 

'Tis only an imaginary place." 

Not long had he for disappointment. 
Something more real engrossed his 
mind. 

Filling him with strange ideas 
And Fairyland was left behind. 



Lady Estabrook. 9 

For with tlie sobbing of the wind, 

There came a low knock at the kitchen 
door, 

And as father hastened to open it 
A woman's form sank to the floor. 

And close within her arms 

She held a little child. 
Close wrapped within her own garments, 

To shield it from the storm so wild. 

The babe had not been chilled. 
Was warm, happy, and bright, 

And when Roger talked to her 

She langhed with childish delight. 

Instinctively the two were friends. 
And the dimpled arms so white 

She twined about his neck 

On that strange, eventful night. 

The w^oman was cared for all that night. 
For she with a fever was raging wild, 

Wringing her hands 

And calling for her child. 



10 Lady Estabrook. 

But when the babe was brought, 

She turned away and said, 
" This cannot be my child, 

For my little Mabel is dead." 

Father tried to learn of her 

From whence she came, 
But fruitless were his efforts. 

He could not learn the stranger's name. 

But dark, mysterious death 
Soon claimed her for his own. 

And her spirit floated out 
To the land of the unknown. 

They bore her to the graveyard 

Just over on the hill. 
Where over many mounds 

The moon shines cold and still. 

And now a smooth white stone 
Is there at the head of the grave, 

And gracefully over the mound 
A willow tree and rose busb wave, 



Lady Estabrook. ii 

The child was about a year old, 
Could talk a little aud run alone, 

And mother having only us two boys, 
Concluded to adopt her for their own. 

They called the child Mable, 

Little Mable St. Clair ; 
And even now a vision rises before me 

Of dark brown eyes and rippling hair. 

Ah, Mable, little Mable St. Clair; 

With your velvet eyes and rippling hair. 
An angel in our home thou wert. 

With 3^our sunn}^ ways and pure true 
heart. 



PART II. 

I AM ONIvY A WAIF. 

Fourteen years had now passed away, 
With their changing seasons sad and gay ; 
For five years I had been abroad, 
And was glad to again touch Americans 
sod. 

Roger was still at the dear old farm 
With his willing heart and strong young 

arm ; 
The old place had been altered some. 
And w^as now a much more modern home. 

Mother seemed just as fair to me, 
And her smile just as sweet to see. 
As when long ago in boyhood days 
She watched me at my childish plays. 

Father's step grew feeble each day ; 
The once black hair was silvery gray, 

12 




La^^^' 



Lady Estabrook. 13 

But just as chivalrous as when in days of 

old 
He courted mother with her locks of gold. 

And Mable with her nut-brown hair, 
Pushed back from a brow wondrous fair, 
And her eyes full of happy joyous light. 
Cheeks as red as the roses bright. 

A joy to our home she proved to be, 

No sorrow could dwell with one gay as 

she ; 
I saw how she lightened mother's care 
As she flitted about here and there. 

Good teachers had been provided for Mable, 
For our parents felt they were amply able 
To do by her as one of their own. 
And rich was the harvest from the seed 
sown. 

She knew she was not their owm child, 
Mother told her how she came in the 
storm so wild ; 



14 Lady Estabrook. 

^Twas better by her tbe tale to be told 
Than wait for a stranger the same to un- 
fold. 

I think she loved them all the more 
And was even more grateful than before. 
Gentle and kind was her greeting to me, 
The same as that of a sister might be. 

Roger she always called her brother, 
And they seemed fond of each other ; 
Aye, more than that, I soon could see. 
And the knowledge came all at once to me. 

Roger gave her a love strong and true, 
But if Mable returned it would it do ? 
Would our parents unite their family 
With one that knew not whom her parents 
might be. 

The name of St. Clair bore no disgrace. 
But belonged to an old and noble race. 
High notions of honor had father and 

mother, 
And I had many fears for my only 

brother. 



Lady Estabrook. 15 

I knew that Ivlable was gentle and good, 
Blossoming to noble womanhood, 
And whatever her station in life might be. 
Whether of high or low degree, 

Thus far she was worthy of Roger St. 

Clair— 
Little Mable with her nut-brown hair. 
Roger was noble and I loved him well ; 
But let our lives, not our parentage, tell 

Whether with kings or knaves we should 
go, 

For we are just what we make ourselves 
here below. 

It is not what a man or woman may in- 
herit, 

That wins for them the real true merit. 

God means us all to be noble, 
A^^e, even kingly, meant He, 

When He bestowed on us power 
And dominion over land and sea. 

And then these glorious lives 

Not ours to waste were they given, 



1 6 Lady Estabrook. 

But to guard and clierish here 
And fit the soul for heaven. 



Even thus I knew Mable felt it to be, 

And well proved her own nobility, 

And whether the daughter of peasant or 

peer. 
Her pages in life were pure and clear. 

Mable was young, and Roger would wait, 
But first he felt he must learn his fate ; 
For Mable would go to school in Glenburn, 
And he could not wait for her to return 

To tell her the hope of all his life. 
And win her consent to be his wife. 
Oh, love ! how sweet, how pure thou art 
When first thou com'st to the human 
heart. 

Love is an eager, restless fire, 
And, fed aright, mounts ever higher ; 
But if not it molders slowly away. 
Leaving only ashes cold and gray. 



Lady Estabrook. 17 

'Twasthe close of a warm, bright summer 

day, 
When the birds were singing their evening 

lay, 
He found her in her favorite nook, 
'Neath a wide-spreading willow near a 

babbling brook. 

She turned to meet him with a smile, 
The evening sunset lit her brow the while ; 
'' Am glad to see you, brother mine, 
A penny for those thoughts of thine." 



^' I claim it ; sit thee down by me, 
And I will tell my thoughts to thee ; 
For I am sad, yes, sad this eve. 
That you, little Alable, so soon will leave. 

'' And are you so willing to leave all here ? 
Do you not care that the parting is near ? 
Alable, we all love you so well ; 
Had you rather go away among strangers 
to dwell?" 
5 



1 8 Lady Estabrook. 

" Husli, Roger," and the bright 63^68 grew 

dim 
As she raised them imploringly to him. 
" You know how I love the home here, 
And never another could be as dear. 

'' Your parents wish it, 3^ou know. 
Why should you hate to have me go ? 
I should like some day to be wise as thee, 
So you need never be ashamed of me. 

*' You will not miss me," she said. 
Laughingly shaking her curly head. 
*' Edwin will soon bring his bride here, 
And she will become to all so dear 

" That you will scarce miss me 

In the fairy presence of one gay as she. 

And what is a year? 'Twill soon pass 

away. 
And hardly seem more than a brief 

summer day." 

'' And what is Edwin's bride to me? 
How can she banish thoughts of thee I 



Lady Estabrook. iQ 

Mable, you are right in wanting to go, 
Only, why should 3^ou not care when it 
pains me so? " 

'* Roger, to care for me so you are kind, 
And a better friend I shall never find. 
And you will ever be my brother dear ; 
That you may be ashamed of the title 
have no fear." 

Then by the brooklet with willows over- 
grown, 
He now took the dimpled hand in his own — 
'' Mable, the title of brother won't do ; 
I want to be more than that to you. 

*' I love you, I want you to be my wife, 
Oh, say that you will and bless my life.'* 
" Roger, Roger," she whispered low, 
'' I cannot say yes, it must be no. 

'' And don't let your eyes have that look 

of pain ; 
Forget these words ere we meet again. 



20 Lady Estabrook. 

Ybicr wife you know I cannot be, 
For who knows anything of me ? 

'' Only a waif brought to your door ! 
Forget me, Roger, I implore." 
" Only a waif ! " and his eyes grew wild. 
^' Don't speak* of that when I love you so, 
child. 

*^ Who you are, what is that to me ? 
And what care I who your parents may 

be?" 
" Roger, be brave for your parents' sake, 
And let them not know of this mistake. 

" Care for them tenderly, for they are old, 
Parents' love, Roger, is more than gold." 
^^ Then I make a mistake in loving you. 
Look up, Mable, say, is this true ? " 

'^ Yes, Roger," and her voice was low. 
And her face grew white in the twilight 

glow. 
She caught his hand within her own. 
As ke would have left her there alone. 



Lady Estabrook. 21 

'' Stay, Roger, and only tell me, 
That you will still my brother be/ 
" Yes, Mable," he whispered now. 
And gently kissed the pure white brow. 



PART III. 

YOU ARE LADY ESTABROOK. 

Listen to the peal of wedding bells, 
What a tale of joy their melody tells ; 
And overhead the sky is clear, 
While all around me are faces dear. 

And best of all, here by my side. 
In snowy robes, is my lovely bride, 
The pastor's voice making us one for life, 
As he solemnly pronounces us man and 
wife. 

A short time after we had settled down, 
And the guests had all returned to town, 
Helen, my bride, looked at Mable and said : 
" She reminds me so much of a sister long 
dead. 

" Hers was a painful history. 
And shrouded still in mystery. 
Here is a picture taken years ago, 
When I was but a little child, you know." 

22 



Lady Estabrook. 23 

]\Iotlier held the picture near the light, 
Asked for the story, while her face grew 

white. 
There was the face of her who brought the 

child, 
Long ago while the storm beat wild. 

"It pains me much to speak of her, 
But some way to-night old memories stir," 
And she told the tale with tearful eyes, 
While Mable listened with surprise. 

'' Edith had a lover who came from Eng- 
land's shore, 

And received no welcome at our door ; 

'Twas rumored that he was Lord Esta- 
brook, 

But father heard with a haughty look. 

" However, they fled away one night. 
When the clouds just hid the moon's pale 

light; 
They married and went to Chelsea to live, 
And father vowed he would never forgive. 



24 Lady Estabrook. 

" At the end of the year there was joy in 

their home, 
For then a little dark-eyed girl had come. 
And then we heard of them no more 
Till Estabrook suddenly came to our door. 

^' His tale filled us all with surprise and 

regret 
That Edith so sad a fate had met. 
He told how his father, a proud old man, 
Belonged to a noble English clan. 

" He chose from the peerage a wife for his 

son, 
But the lad}^ had never the lad's heart won, 
So he left his home and his irate sire 
And in Edith found his heart's desire. 

" He told how happy the past two years 
Had glided for them without care or fears. 
Until he was summoned away 
And met with unexpected delay. 

" In his absence an enemy made her believe 
He had married her with intent to deceive ; 



Lady Estabrook. 25 

That lie was a noble by birth, 

And had left forever their happy hearth. 



'^ And when he returned not a trace 
Could he find of Edith's loved face. 
Sadly the father told his tale, 
And ended with a bitter wail. 

'' ' I've a letter from home to bring wife and 

child, 
For father to me is reconciled. 
And I go to settle my estate. 
Clasp mother once more ere it be too late. 

'' * She is very feeble, the}^ say. 
And I cannot linger another day. 
But if anything of my folks you learn. 
Send to me quickly and I will return.^ 

'' Aly father grasped his hand and said, 
* Forgive me now they may be dead,' 
All this was many years ago 
And father has searched to and fro ; 



26 Lady Estabrook. 

" Sent messages far and near, 

But nothing of the lost ones conld we 

hear." 
And Helen sadly drooped her head, 
*^ We have long had fears that both are 

dead." 



When Helen finished mother said, 
" The child is here ; she is not dead ; 
For she and Mable are one and the same 
And alone entitled to Lord Estabrook's 
name. 



" And though Mable to us is dear 
We must send for her father to come here. 
And we must be willing with her to part. 
For the sake of cheering his lonely heart. 



^' Mable, look up, my child," she said, 
And stooped to raise the graceful head, 
^' Let me see, my child, how you look, 
For you are Lady Estabrook." 



Lady Estabrook. 27 

" Don^t, mother," she said, " I am happy 

here, 
And cannot part with all so dear." 
She looked at Roger and a sudden light 
Crept into the eyes already so bright. 

I pitied Roger with all my heart. 
For I knew that he and Mable must part ; 
And for her to cross the sea to dwell 
Would pain him sore, for he loved her well. 

But if Mable loved him she would not for- 
get, 

And I hoped the tangles might all be 
smoothed yet. 

A message was sent to Lord Estabrook 

And for him or a letter we soon might look. 



PART IV. 

THE LOVER'S WELCOME. 

The warm August sun was sinking to rest 
Behind the hills that in green were 

dressed, 
The lingering red and purple light 
Made the window panes most dazzling 

bright. 

Father, mother, Helen and I, 

Were chatting and watching the changing 

sky; 
Mable and Roger came in from a walk, 
And we could hear their laugh and talk. 

I wish I could describe Mable to you 
So you could think of her and justice do ; 
The rippling waves of dark-brown hair, 
Were pushed back from the brow so fair. 

23 



Lady Estabrook. 29 

The smiles and dimples chased each other 
As she chatted gaily with my brother. 
She was dressed in a nuislin airy and light, 
While at her throat were rosebuds bright. 



Methought as I noted the white hand on 

the gate, 
'Twas fit to belong to some lady great. 
On the evening silence there came a sound 
Of horses' hoofs upon the ground. 



Then soon a carriage came in sight 
And stopped for a stranger to alight ; 
In the twilight now grown so late 
He could dimly see the faces at the gate. 



Addressing them he said, 

" This, I believe, is the St. Clair home- 
stead," 

On that never-to-be forgotten night 

When we entered the room where it was 
light. 



30 Lady Estabrook. 

Helen said, extending her hand, 

'' Lord Estabrook, you come quick from a 

foieign land." 
Then Mable, who had slipped away in the 

gloom 
Came gracefully into the room. 

That Lord Estabrook was of noble race, 
One could quickly see by his handsome 

face, 
A striking resemblance to him Mable bore, 
The same expression each countenance 

wore. 

Only a moment he gazed at that face. 
Then clasped her close in a long embrace, 
" My daughter, my long-lost treasure,'^ 

said he, 
" To think all these ^^ears I've been parted 

from thee." 

Then once more the story was told. 
How Mable was brought in the storm and 
cold. 



Lady Estabrook. 31 

" Look up, my darling," vSaid he, *' look ; 
I would see the lost Lady Estabrook. 

*' Ah, yes, they are one and the same, 
And you alone have a right to the name ; 
Old Estabrook Hall shall have a mistress 

once more, 
As soon as we reach the English shore. 

" And though I am sorry for the good 

folks here. 
For I know to them you must be dear, 
Yet 'tis best for you to go with me, 
And see your home across the sea." 

The suffering of Roger then 
I cannot portray with my pen, 
For she was no longer Mable St. Clair, 
But Lady Estabrook, mistress of lands 
broad and fair. 

After passing a sleepless night, 
He was up as soon as it was light. 
And wandered down to the willow side. 
Where he had asked ]\Iable to be his bride. 



32 Lady Estabrook. 

But, wakeful as lie miglit be, 
There was another restless as he. 
" Roger," a soft voice said ; 
And then he slowly raised his head. 

'' Roger, my brother," she cried, 
Going close to his side ; 
^' I cannot bear this look of pain, 
Let me not see it in your face again. 

'' You have no reason to be so sad, 
When I, oh Roger, am so glad ; 
Mar not m}^ happiness. 
But please ask God Mable to bless." 

'^ God ever bless you, Mable dear, 

But I cannot be glad and the parting so 

near ; 
And though 3^ou had no love for me, 
I could at least your dear face see. 

" But now you are going so far away. 
Oh, pity my weakness, Mable, I pray." 
^' Roger, Roger," she whispered low, 
If you bid me stay I will never go. 



Lady P^stabrook. 33 

^' For don't you know, if friend of mine, 
Don't you know my love is thine ; 
Roger, I tell you true, 
I have suffered as much as you." 

^'Mable, can it be true? 

Am I indeed so much to you ? " 

^' Yes ; finding my father, don't you see, 

Removes the objections to wedding me." 

" But, Mable, don't you know 
That you to another land must go, 
And when the great wide sea 
Shall divide 3^ou and me ; 

*' When you are among great and noble 

men, 
Will you think of poor Roger then?" 
*' Poor ! look at these lands ; 
Noble ; " and she "grasped his hands ; 

"None more noble than 3'ou, dear. 
That I shall forget you never fear. 
Nobleness is goodness, 
What are pomp, title, and dress ? 
3 

L.ofC. 



34 Lady Estabrook. 

^' I care not for title and fame 
Onl}^ a pure, unspotted name ; 
I am sure father thinks so, too ; 
But he comes, I leave him with you." 

She tripped away with foot light as a 
feather, 

Leaving the two together. 

Roger told his love while the father 
listened, 

Watching the deep dark eyes that glis- 
tened. 

" Roger, my boy," said Lord Estabrook, 
And took his hand, which he heartily 

shook, 
'^ You are worthy of her, I know, 
And I give you my blessing before I go. 

" Mable is very young, you know, 
And ^tis best for a time with me should go, 
But if she loves you she will be 
As true as steel, I know, to thee. 



Lady Estabrook. 35 

" I read it in her lovely face, 
For already a noble mind I trace ; 
And with not one word will I mar her joy ; 
I have seen enough of that, my boy. 

* And for the sake of her in yonder grave, 
Where the willow-tree and rose-bush wave, 
For the sake, too, of the daughter so dear 

to me, 
I promise faithfully to thee 

" That if in two years you come to Eng- 
land, 

And still love each other, you shall have 
her hand. 

Two years will not seem very long, 

For Mable is young, and you are strong." 

" Oh, thank you, thank you," Roger said, 
As he gracefully raised his hat from his 

head. 
Then back to the house they wended their 

way, 
And Estabrook planned for sailing next 

day. 



PART V. 

FATHER AND CHII,D. 

Who is this iu glistening halls, 
That is ever fairest at the balls ; 
Who, for her kind deeds and gentleness 
The poor are ever ready to bless ? 

Many lovers had she, 

Bnt the maiden's heart dwelt across the 

sea; 
'Tis Mable, her diamonds glittering in the 

light. 
Her face just now unusually bright. 

For this grand ball was a welcome, 
For her lover to her English home ; 
Together they opened the ball, 
The fairest couple in the hall. 

No need had she to blush for him, 
Noble of mind, graceful of limb ; 
36 



Lady Estabrook. 37 

Surely, Lord Estabrook, 
You may well proudly on your daughter 
look. 

For royally she has done her part, 
This dearest treasure of your heart ; 
In England Mable and Roger dwelt, 
Each for the St. Clairs the deepest love 
felt. 

Two little children at Estabrook halls. 
Now shout and play within the old walls ; 
Estabrook's face loses its look of pain. 
And with these little ones seems to renew 
life again. 




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